


one misstep, you're mine (and you'd better stay clever if you want to survive)

by Ariesgirl666



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe -Monsters, Alternate Universe -Supernatural Elements, F/M, i guess, incubus, references to bisexual veronica sawyer, some gore, that's what inspired this, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 10:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13995906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariesgirl666/pseuds/Ariesgirl666
Summary: JD's a monster who feeds on human emotions, and Veronica's smart enough to be interesting and stupid enough to manipulate.Title from "Monsters" by Ruelle.





	one misstep, you're mine (and you'd better stay clever if you want to survive)

Another school, another hunting ground. Rinse and repeat. He hasn’t killed his old man yet, mostly because Jason Dean has no interest in getting a job. (It’s sort of hard to get one as a half human half soul sucker anyway, and he’s not the customer service type.) People don’t like him. It’s probably the three rows of teeth hidden behind his smirk.

 

That’s why he’s surprised when the sullen, pretty brunette from the cafeteria approaches him, armed with pretty words and red-lipped smirk. She’s complicated. He likes complicated.

 

He almost gives himself away when she enters the 7-11 (he’ll be honest, he wasn’t expecting anyone to come in this late), and he sort of kicks the cashier’s body under the counter. She doesn’t notice anything, luckily. He’s never _technically_ dated a girl before, and he doesn’t want to rush things. He’s not the murder-and-run type. They were having fun, and he was getting a sense for her too, Veronica Sawyer from Ohio, when her bitchy friend drags her away. Rude. (bad things tend do tend to happen to rude people when he’s around)

 

When she falls asleep in his arms, he ghosts his fingers over her skin, siphoning up her emotions. She stirs -she’d have nightmares, they usually did, but she wouldn’t remember in the morning. She’s excited, happy about her first time. A little embarassed, but there’s a sort of deep feeling of trust, love, security, that’s too rare to miss out on. Damn, did he pick the right girl.

 

He’d planned on leaving her there, over the body of her best friend. Wanted to see if betrayal tasted as good in Ohio as it had in Vegas. But the emotions she was practically spewing -pride and guilt and horror and smugness -it was a cocktail he couldn’t resist.

So he helps her forge a suicide note, puts his hand on her warm shoulder and siphons out all of the adrenaline, the guilt, and all the misplaced _trust_ she was putting in him.

 

The next day, Veronica’s skinnier and sallow, but JD is practically glowing. He’s never felt this full, and when he meets Veronica after third period, he doesn’t even need to siphon her, and can just focus on their kissing. (She’s a hell of a kisser)

In a few days, the glow leaves. Veronica’s feelings are all the same -she’s worried about Heather Duke, and annoyed at Heather McNamara, and she hates everyone at school, blah blah blah. 

How droll. He’s fed on enough dull teenage hatred to last several lifetimes.

 

The next time he senses her angry, he knows his time has come.

 

All the fierce pride and anxiety she’d felt crafting their second suicide note fed him. He was a starving man at a banquet, and her hesitation at his lie -and then once again that overpowering trust and love -he felt as though he was floating.

When midnight comes, he feels more powerful than ever. He could snap her neck with one hand, if he so pleased. He could bend space and time. He could do anything.

 

He hunts the second jock through the wood, feeding on sloppy panic. Pins him to a tree, smiles his Glasgow grin, and he gets to see the boy’s eyes widen in pure terror -the sort that sends people into comas -but he’s too separating the rapist’s head from his shoulders to feed on the shock. No matter. He has the Holy Grail of humans -and there she is now.

“What the _fuck_ have you done,” she says in horror, and he kisses her with blood still on his lips and tells her that they’re God.

She’s shaking in his arms. He’s never felt better.

 

At school the next day, Veronica’s lost even more weight. She’s pale, and her hair is thinner than it used to be. 

“Veronica, are you purging? You look like hell,” Heather Duke says, concerned, and isn’t _that_ ironic. Veronica brushes her off. JD’s looking better than ever -Heather McNamara even admitted, however grudgingly, that she’s starting to find him attractive. “In a psychotic way of course.”

“Of course,” says Veronica dryly.

 

JD finds out he can _affect_ emotions too -in the weak-minded at least. He can’t line up the mental dominoes, but he can tip them -if he’s careful.

When his latest experiment -it’s the yellow Heather, so not a huge waste - runs out in the middle of class, Veronica bolts after her. 

 _Such_ a shame she was too late to stop her friend from downing a bottle of sleeping pills. He feels her horror, despair, guilt, from all the way down the hall, and fights the urge to giggle like a schoolchild.

Poor little Heather. Who would have thought _she_ would be suicidal?

Heather Duke’s the only one left. She doesn’t look too good in red (and maybe she’s too close to Veronica for his comfort). He decides to play dominoes again.

 

Duke’s a harder nut to crack than the other two. Her mind’s more organized, too. She’s strong. Unfortunately for her, so is he.

All the guilt has numbed Veronica, made her dull. Lifeless, even. He needs a way to fix that.

 

He’s never been one for subtlety. He wonders what Veronica will think when she watches their school go up in flames, knows it was her fault. Maybe he’ll even leave Duke alive, as a little present for her -to fuck or kill or even spare if she so desires. He doesn’t give a shit. Anything for his goddess, right?

 

Getting everyone to sign the petition is too easy -he doesn’t need to threaten Duke with more than a few measly photos. (That Dumptruck girl actually did turn out to be helpful. Maybe he shouldn’t’ve pushed her to walk off a bridge. She survived, somehow -looks like he’s not the only half human in this bumfuck town- so he doesn’t know what she has to complain about.)

 

He tastes her fear through the wood of the closet and _Christ_ if he thought her _trust_ was good, her fear is intoxicating. He smiles, high on it. Slams against the door -sharp, unpredictable, and she actually lets out a little whimper. 

“Come on out, baby,” he croons. “I can’t show up at the pep rally without a date, you know.”

“You’re a monster!” her voice trembles a reply, and her false bravado makes him laugh.

“Come on, Veronica. Can’t stay in there forever. Soon your parents will come up to check on you, and you know how much I _hate_ being interrupted.”

He smiles again, three rows of sharp teeth, and her fear begins coming in short statacco bursts.

“Leave me alone!”

“You know I can’t do that, darling,” he says, slamming his fist against the door again. It shudders. He inhales Veronica’s terror -oh, and _guilt_ too. Delicious.

He kicks the door and it cracks under his strength. One more should probably do it. 

 

She’s hung herself -at least, that’s what she’d like him to think and it might’ve worked if he can’t sense how scared she is. He almost calls her on it -but he really wants to see what she’ll do next. He outlines the basic details of his plan, lets her know where he’ll be, and sweeps out into the night.

He feels like he can fly -decides not to test that particular theory.

 

A _croquet mallet_. That’s her weapon of choice. A fucking croquet mallet.

She’s insane, and he’s disappointed. That’s no way to go about killing a god -something she ought to know by now. 

3 minutes and 54 seconds to go.

 

Maybe, he thinks, with the snapped-off croquet mallet shoved up to the hilt in his stomach, he’d underestimated her.

He grabs her wrist as he falls and tastes triumph, disbelief -and love. 

 

She’s the only god he sees when he dies.

**Author's Note:**

> I based JD's character design off a number of things -the constant need to feed on people came from Jennifer's Body, the emotional manipulation/'push' came from Andy McGee in Stephen King's "Firestarter", the emotion siphoning came from Incubi myths, and the three rows of teeth was because of sharks.


End file.
